


Angel Wing Scars

by drawingmywords



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Castiel (Supernatural), Angel/Human Relationships, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Castiel Has Panic Attacks (Supernatural), Castiel and Dean Winchester Need to Use Their Words, Castiels Wings, DeanCas - Freeform, Destiel - Freeform, Fluff and Angst, Fluff in the Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural), Hurt Castiel (Supernatural), M/M, Panic Attacks, Protective Dean Winchester, Romantic Fluff, SPN - Freeform, i did this because i was sad okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:08:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28402974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drawingmywords/pseuds/drawingmywords
Summary: Cass has a problem with his grace, and his emotions slam down onto his almost human self. Dean finds him having a panic attack.
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester
Kudos: 49





	Angel Wing Scars

**Author's Note:**

> (this was meant to be soft fluff so please do not sexualize it, Cass is vulnerable)  
> CW: quick mention of drowning, scars (from supernatural fights), and panic attacks

Sam tosses and turns in his bed, the bunkers been quiet lately, but he can't sleep. He's been hearing the shower running and decides to ignore the dreams and say that's what's been keeping him up. Dean’s been acting off, nothing new, maybe this was just how he is now, so Sam assumed it was Dean in the shower. He struts over to Dean's room somewhat annoyed at him and cracks the door. Deans snoring. For a moment sams fight or flight kicks in thinking someone was in the bunker, assuming the worst where his untreated PTSD was roaming. But for only a second. He realizes Cass had been spending his sleepless nights looking for Cases and reading up on pureblood vampire lore in the library, trying to understand ways to harm them without killing them. Deads man blood seemed less effective, and recently the need for information was rising. Sam spent a few minutes wondering why an angel would be taking a shower, maybe it was something wrong with his grace, maybe it was like drinking beer, ‘for the fun of it’. He walked over to what seemed to be the bathroom Cass was residing in only to hear a loud swish of angel wings and water splattering on the floor. The noise stopped and he heard nothing but a sniffle and some shuffling in the tub. A few thoughts raced through his head as he retreated back to Deans room, why would an angel cry, was he flying somewhere else and coming back? The lore on angels seemed to be notoriously preachy and false so Sam knew little to nothing about them crying or any sort? Cass had only begun to experience true emotions years ago when he had rebelled for Dean. It struck him, Dean would know more about this than him or anyone in the range of hunters who had experienced angelic presence. He shuffled the last few steps into the dean's room quietly, still debating to wake him up. Sam removed the gun hidden under Dean's pillow just in case and stepped back  
“Dean,” he said somewhat quietly to afraid to get a reaction. He cleared his throat, “Dean” he repeated louder. Dean jolted awake and reached for his pillow, only to see Sammy alone.  
“What the hell, Sam?” he began, but he heard the shower running, an alarmed look spread across his face.  
“Sammy who's in the bunker” he kept trying to reach for his gun.  
Sam threw it on the bed and muttered “no one. I think it's Cass.'' Dean's alarmed look turned to confusion. “What's wings in the shower for?” he said with a smart-ass tone.  
“Why don't you go figure it out?” Sam looked exhausted at this point, almost frustrated to tears over the fact that he knew Cass would say more to Dean anyway. His lack of sleep was getting to him.  
“Sam how much sleep have you been getting?” Dean decided to sit up so he wouldn't pull a muscle looking at his tower of a brother, “you're never like this you need to get some rest. I knew those vamp hunts had been taking a toll, when is your dumbass gonna learn to sleep man.” he looked Sam in the eyes. Getting up he patted Sam on the shoulder  
“please get some rest.” Dean pulled on a flannel over his soft striped pants to check on Cass. As he got closer and the water got louder, he wondered why he would be showering once again.

Water was pouring on his head and wings, he hated having his wings out on earth, he hated how they looked. His vessel had become almost claustrophobic but he was used to it, somewhat. Cass always somewhat enjoyed the water, he always associated it with deans love for fishing. But also as a danger, thoughts of the leviathans and drowning deaths rushed through his brain and he buried his head in his arms. The shower was easy to use. He got the temperature to a somewhat warm steamy point. He couldn’t stand up very long, it felt like Chuck had been pushing down on his shoulders for months so he finally gave up and sat down. Years ago when Metatron had shown him the millions of books and movies and shows he recalled the shower scenes, they seemed relaxing, so Maybe this would help. His arms were wrapped around his legs, water in his eyes made him uncomfortable but he almost didn’t notice. Cass knew his mental health had been different, off, but nothing new for hunters, right? Nothing worth writing down, he thought, the stupidity of the shower idea dawned on him as his intrusive thoughts continued roaming the deserts of his mind. 

Dean felt the awkwardness of the situation, what in the world was Cass doing and why. To his knowledge Cass had never taken a shower before, his grace had built-in shampoo, and it's not like angels sweat. Maybe they cry. He stood outside the door for a long while thinking of what to do. Hunters weren’t known for their therapy, and Dean had only really dealt with Sam when the situation was dire or as a kid. Reluctantly he knocked lightly on the door, but he heard nothing

Cass jolted upright, at this point his face was red and tears had formed in his eyes. The feathers on his scarred wings were heavy with water and he was almost shaking. He breathed in and held it, trying to keep his whimpering breaths from being exposed. Dean didn’t move, he kept his head down at the ground waiting for any kind of noise. Cass began to shake harder, worried more, mostly that Sam or Dean had heard what was going on, and had figured out his defenses were broken and torn. He knew the concerned pity looks from sam would come, he knew dean would think less of him and his stupid front. He knew the Winchesters would discover angels could cry, he knew that his wings would do nothing but show just how non-human he was. His thoughts spirling like this wasn’t new. Every time Dean yelled, every time Dean looked at him like he was worthless, it got harder and harder to stop. Casses neck was twitching with his breaths, and his tears rolled down his cheeks. The water felt like ice on lava to him, and he couldn’t bring himself to address whoever was at the door. It had been a minute or two, Dean had knocked more but came to the conclusion the Cass wasn’t okay. He knew he hadn’t been, but every time he looked at him Dean felt almost safe, he couldn’t handle those feelings, not now.  
“Cass? Is that you? What's happening?” Dean declared trying to be quiet enough to let Sam sleep but loud enough to reach Cass.  
“Cass, look if you need something we are here, but why in hell are you in the shower?”. Cass heard this, he turned the water off and sat there. His shaking turned more to shivering as he decided not to move. He thought he deserved discomfort anyway. He cleared his throat as quietly as he could as his tears got more prominent. Dean immediately noticed the water shut off and a confused look spread across his face once again. He cleared his throat and thought of what to say,  
“Cass, Cass what's happening?”. Every second Cass didn’t respond Dean's concerned thoughts grew inch by inch. Cass was still shaking, he managed to pull a towel over his legs ashamed to look at his own skin. Dean knocked once more and Cass let it out. He sobbed, his breaths were shakier and he just whimpered. Dean started to hear this and gave up. He shoved the door open with his eyes down, trying not to see anything, but Casses oil spill like rainbow wings are hard to ignore. They were messy, scarred, but Dean just stood staring in awe. Cass covered everything in his towel as fast as he could, his face was still bright red and his panic still obviously showing itself. Dean stepped over next to the distraught angel,  
“Cass what's going on, you need to breathe” Dean's face was pure worry now, Casses blurred vision only got worse as he realized that dean was actually there.  
“Cass? Cass! Please for me, just breathe” Cass continued to shake and sob, but tried to breathe as deep as he could. Dean almost felt tears burn behind his eyes, but he couldn’t cry, not now. He rested his hands on Casses towel, it somewhat covering the wings wrapped around his body. Cass shuttered at the feeling of Dean’s hands.  
“Dea-'' Cass tried to say, but his breath was too shakey.  
“Cass it's okay,” Dean said, before finally slumping down on the ground next to the tub, sitting crisscross. They sat there for a while, Casses' breaths didn’t slow. He Breathed in shakey again, barely getting any air in, the shower handle turned at the force the angel let out as he breathed again and the shower resumed pouring.  
“Woah Woah, okay, easy Cass It's gonna be okay.” Dean got on his knees and reached over to turn the water off once again, before climbing in the tub and grabbing the angel’s hands.  
“Cass please, look at me!” He didn’t mean to be that loud. “Cass we need to get you out of this attack you need to look me in the eyes.” Cass didn’t move for a second, Dean was squeezing his hands, but he just couldn’t move. He tried, he tried to meet eyes with the man across from him but he couldn’t, his tears became more powerful. Dean moved his right hand from Casses and lifted his chin.  
“Cass breathe with me, okay?” He held Casses face now, and Cass felt as shuddery and unstill as an angel could possibly be. Almost non-reactive to his touch. Dean cleared his throat, he didn’t know what he was doing. Casses eyes were glowing, dim but there, the second Dean noticed this tears pushed against the back of his eyes. He put his hands on Casses shoulders and pulled him into a hug. Dean’s clothing was soaked, he didn’t even notice the cold air or the dripping of the shower water or the pool of it still in the tub. He held Cass as tight as he could for a while, feeling his breaths making sure he was calming down. Casses tears fell down his shirt but he was finally breathing. Dean pulled away, his face back to the usual hard resting stance. He moved his hands from Cas to his own lap.  
“Cass it’s over. You’re safe. You’re here okay? It's Dean.” He looked at the angel’s wings, droopy, and they surrounded him and Cass in the tub. Like a way to protect them. A few feathers laid around them, the lights above the blue and white tiled room bounced off the feathers colors, Dean thought it was beautiful. He almost reached out to touch them, but Casses shaking caught his attention again. He wasn’t gonna talk to Dean, or anyone, not for a little. Dean remembered that whenever Cass was helping Jack he would talk to him, never blame him, always end up bringing Jack to his bed and sit there with him. So he did what he learned.  
“Okay, okay.” He grabbed a few towels from the counter beside them and wrapped Cass up, standing up and pulling him up as well. They walked to Casses room, the bed was made, almost never used. Whatever had caused this with Cass had affected his grace, Dean could tell. So maybe he would sleep, whatever would help him, Dean thought. Cass had managed to get the trousers of his suit on, unable to use his energy to revert his wings back to what they were. He sat down on the edge of the bed, his eye bags were deep and his lips were chapped. Dean stood farther from the bed, staring at him silently eyebrows furrowed.  
“So uh, movie? Sleep? Do you need anything? Water or? Is your uh... Is your grace low-?” He was less worried now that Cass had calmed down, but at the same time, he was still concerned for the angel's health.  
Cass felt the anxiety in him still. It was somewhat lower but it felt like his body was gonna overflow with water, as if his chest was being blown up like a balloon. His wings, they felt better. He looked up at Dean, grateful, nervous.  
“Um. yeah okay, that's fine. I’ll get a movie on your TV and uh, we’ll be good.” Dean, walking over to the other half of the bed, grabbed the remote and flipped to whatever channel was playing something related to cowboys. He scooted back against the headboard and put his hands behind his head. Castiel was still on the edge of the bed. He touched his left-wing, it stung a bit, a large scar spread across the top of it, part of it had a new cut across it from Cass opening them and making them known, it had been a while.  
“So, the wings are new.” Dean looked away from the screen. “Is that what's up with you?” Cass closed his wings, looking over at him, finally realizing what was going on, why he had to breathe, why he felt so weird in his body, why he could cry and sweat and feel.  
Dean blinked and Casses' wings were gone, surprised he shook his head and furrowed his brows again. Cass had winced, almost like it caused pain to put them back.  
“Here.” Dean threw his flannel to Cass, it seemed to be fully dry at this point. Cass hesitantly put it on, he was cold. He moved back, next to Dean, hands in this lap, still silent. Focused more on him than the movie. Dean turned from the screen, noticing this, and looked confused. His eyes darted around the room,  
“What’s up?” Cass looked back at the TV screen nervous. “I know your suit is still in the bathroom if you want that.”  
Cass looked back up at Dean, tired, exhausted, his puppy dog eyes were close to crying and Dean could see that. Cass wiped his eyes with his arms. Dean shifted so his body was facing Cass on the bed.  
“Okay, that's okay, we don’t need to talk,” His eyes met Casses, “you don’t need to keep your wings that way. You can have them out if you need to.” Cass looked into Dean's eyes, for a few minutes they sat in silence, but finally, his wings came out again. He breathed in deep,  
“It's my grace,” he began, his breaths slowing down again, “somethings wrong.” Dean was surprised to hear his voice, it had almost gotten deeper because of the crying. He looked at Casses wings, and back at the screen.  
“We can handle it in the morning. Why don’t I stay here tonight, and we see if you need to sleep.” Dean patted the pillow, “Count some sheep.” Cass slept on his side, looking away from Dean, he squeezed his wings in as much as he could to keep warm. Dean had moved to the chair in the corner of the room, continuing his movie, while Cass didn’t mind the noise.

He appeared, alone, in a black space. His suit and trench coat were on, his eyes were no longer puffy, and he had his angel blade. Black, ooze like liquid, sprouted from the ground up. The Empty. Cass followed to ooze with his blue eyes, you could see the anger and anxiety forming in him. He turned around, away from the ooze, running, yelling, calling for Dean. It grabbed his black shoes, he fell.

He woke up, sweating, crying, in bed. His wings were spread.  
“Cass? Cass?” Dean was kneeling, on the floor next to the bed, looking Cass in the eyes. Cass sat up sobbing again, hyperventilating.  
“Cass you were twitching, and saying my name, was it a nightmare?” He moved around the bed climbing across from Cass, who was now hugging his knees. Cass nodded, and his neck and shoulders began to twitch. He shifted, crying harder from this discomfort. Dean moved in, pushing his knees down and hugging him. He stayed there for a few minutes and pulled away.  
“Cass look at me, breathe with me okay?” Dean scooted back and sat criss-cross once again, Casses tearful eyes met his. “Ready? Okay, breathe in for me, breathe in. Okay good now out, out for five seconds, I’ll count with you.” He counted, and repeated this about ten times, Cass was still lightly crying, but he was back. His wings were shaking, the cut on them glowing blue just the slightest. Dean didn’t want to scare him anymore, so he focused on keeping him from fainting.  
“You’re doing amazing, angel.” Cass heard this, and wiped his eyes with his sleeve again, and began chewing on his nails and fingertips, silently. Dean grabbed his hands gently, moving them away from his mouth,  
“Cass…” he moved next to the angel but got up. When he walked back into the room, he had alcohol and some gauze in his hands. “I know, your, your cut is glowing… But I outta try and help.” Pouring some of the liquid on the gauze he sat on the bed in front of Cass again, looking him in the eyes.  
“Is this okay?” Dean said calmly. Cass looked back silently, no response, so Dean moved more toward the cut on his wing and reached his arm out slowly. He moved his eyes to Cass, looking for approval, Cass nodded his head holding in tears. The pain was small, but Dean was concerned it would make matters worse. He rubbed it softly making sure not to press too hard. When he was done Cass took his wings in and Dean moved in next to him. Cass was still calming down, so Dean wrapped an arm around his shoulder resting his head on top of casses.  
“It’ll get better. That was just a dream, you're here. With me.”

They fell asleep, Dean holding Cass, Casses wing around dean.


End file.
